


When Hope Is Born

by Nique02



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Errortale (Undertale), Angst, Betrayal, Emotional Hurt, Error Forced god of destruction, Errortale Sans (Undertale), Ink, M/M, Mental Anguish, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mpreg, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:08:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28903152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nique02/pseuds/Nique02
Summary: Error is the forced God of destruction. He is hated and despised by all others in the multiverse. But he could handle that, it was ok, he deserved it after all. But looking down at the clot that was nestled in the lower abdomen of his ecto he realized that for the first time in his miserable existence he had something to protect and fight for.
Relationships: Error x Ink, Error/Ink, Ink x Dream - Relationship, Ink/Dream, Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 162





	1. Error The forced God of Destruction

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [*Rewrite/New Version* Healing What Has Been Broken](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18978007) by [Harrish6](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harrish6/pseuds/Harrish6). 



> I do not own Undertale or any of the Characters. The concept of 'The God Of Destruction' was created by Harrish6. This is simply me taking a crack at it.

Error looked off into the Anti void his eyes out of focus and unseeing, his thoughts running rampant. He was exhausted in the deepest sense of the word. Things had gotten worse; Ink was endlessly creating nonstop despite Error’s warnings not to. The amount of destruction needed had multiplied due to Ink’s irresponsible actions of endless output into a multiverse that had no more room to spare. Error had not been back in his antivoid in months. The moment there had been a lull in Ink’s endless creation Error had quickly made a portal into his antivoid and collapsed unmoving face-first into his favorite bean bag chair. 

If Error was not destroying to accommodate the new worlds that Ink created, then he was being relentlessly attacked by Ink and his group of Star Sanses. Error simply wished that they would just leave him alone. The destruction of a world was hard enough both mentally and physically as it was. The added uproar of the Star Sanses team did not help matters at all. 

Honestly, Error did strive to destroy the worlds as humanely and as quietly as physically possible. He always attempted to make sure that the destruction would take place in the middle of the night when most the of the residents were asleep in their beds deep into their dreams. The destruction and consequential dusting of those that resided with in the world would never be a pleasant experience or effortless process. But at least this way when they were motionless in their beds and not running around cognizant and screaming or attempting to fight back. Error would be able to dust them so quickly that most of them would never even know what happened. It was the most merciful and swift way that Error could think of. 

But sadly, and frustratingly in the end, it almost never happened like that. Error would go to examine the world before its destruction in order to scope out the place before nighttime fell. But it seemed like almost every time he was greeted by an attack from a member of the Star Sanses a few minutes later. Error really wanted to know how they kept locating him. He traveled by portal and was extremely careful not to be seen. But somehow nearly every time before he could even really start, either Ink, Dream, or Blue always managed to find him. In the end it would always result in a messy battle, causing the AU inhabitants to descend into chaos. Error would be forced to attempt to destroy the world while the monsters who lived there were awake to witness and feel it. The whole experience became more horrendous and worse for the AU residents. Not to mention the whole scenario became a thousand times more stressful and challenging for him. 

But honestly as frustrating as it was, a part of Error did understand the actions of Ink and the Star Sanses. Their misguided efforts put forth to protect the innocent lives of those who’s Au’s he was sent out to destroy. Ink was the Guardian of Creation after all, the only thing he had ever really seen of the creators was the beginning of their work. The love and innovation that is first poured out onto a blank canvas constructing new life and story lines. The joy and overwhelming beauty that was the beginning of a new world. 

Ink knew that the creators loved the worlds they made. He felt it in the paints he drank, and he saw it each time he helped them bring a new AU into being. What Ink failed to understand was that some of the creators saw the Au’s and the monsters who inhabited them just as characters, or toys of their own making. Yes, they loved them at first. But sometimes that love faded, AU’s more often than not were left forgotten and rotting. Half done with no real end in sight. Some of the creators saw Au’s as things that they could bring into being then break and twist as they pleased without regret or remorse. After all they were the creators, they could do whatever they wanted with their creations… Right? 

The creators were capable of both creation and destruction. It went without saying that the creators loved to conceive new ideas and bring them to fruition. But the multiverse was only so big, and in order to do so there needed to be room in the multiverse to continually bring new concepts into being. So, some destruction was required, something that had seemingly not been properly explained to Ink. Or if it had Ink had long forgotten it. However, Error highly doubted that Ink had ever been told about the balance at all. It appeared that while Error could physically hear the creator’s voices, Ink mostly communicated with them through emotions that he gained through the paint that the Au’s created. At first, the voices had told Error to try to talk to Ink for them. But after getting into countless fights that tended to leave either the destroyer or the guardian of creation crippled for a few days and unable to do his job of helping keep the balance. The creators had seemed to all thankfully give up on that idea fairly quickly. 

Error was constantly being forced to destroy by the creators. It was understood among the creators that in order to make room for the new, the old and forgotten had to be eliminated. Simple in theory, but harsh in reality, after all these were living beings that inhabited these worlds. The creators needed someone to do the dirty work. A being that could take the blame for the failures and abandonment of AU’s. 

In a way, Error’s view of Ink was similar to that of a Misguided child. Ink was stunted by those he desired validation from the most. Sheltered to the point where he had become blind to the big picture. As long as he was never forgotten by the creators and as long as they kept asking him to help them design new AU’s providing him with his paint in the process. He would happily do whatever they wanted him to. It seemed that he only ever saw the good of them and never the bad. This allowed the guardian of creation to be carefree and not bothered with technicalities that might restrict his artistic flow. 

This permitted for two things, on one hand Ink was able to create beautiful and wonderful worlds without hesitation or any real form of constraint. But on the other hand, it also allowed Ink to form an ideal that the multiverse was black and white with no gray. Ink only ever saw the good and happy things when it came to the AU’s. He never had to face the harsh reality of the need for destruction of the worlds that he seemed to think the creators loved unconditionally. Some of the creators had actually informed Error that they wanted Ink to realize the balance and help keep it. But also feared that the moment Ink knew of the truth he would stop creating completely. Error had responded to the creators that he highly doubted that their fear would become a reality; since Ink would still need his paints and from what Error had observed the only way for Ink to get those was thru the creations of AU’s. Ink was a being who was soulless, he was a contradiction in a way. Though his views were rigid when it came to the creators. When it came to himself, he had no real concept of right and wrong. When it came to personal morals, due to his lack of emotions the lines were blurred for him and the others around him. In all honesty, Error had no doubt in his mind that if things were switched around and the only way Ink could get his paints was thru destroying AU’s. The soulless artist would probably switch teams without regret or shame.

But until that unlikely time came, Ink would only ever see what Error did as evil and horrible. What other choice did the guardian of creation have? Anything that resulted in the destruction of a beautiful Au’s must be evil in his mind. No matter what Error said in an attempt to help or explain why he did what he did, Ink would never truly be able to accept it. It was easier to say that Error was an insane and unstable brute, than to accept the idea that his precious creators were capable of mass destruction. Such a thought was unfathomable to Ink.

Error on the other hand was not blessed with the odd level of ignorance and lack of remorse that Ink possessed. As the Destroyer, he saw both the good and the bad of the creators. He understood that the Multiverse was not black and white and that not all the creators were saints nor were they necessarily villains. He realized that the balance needed to be kept. Even if he hated every second of it. 

It may not seem that way to others looking in, that Error was even capable of feeling any form of remorse for his actions. Using his strings to kill all those around him slaughtering both male, female, and children monsters with seemingly no hesitance. He had been called many things, soulless, freak, beast, destroyer, slayer, murder, being of chaos, etc… 

But in his antivoid where there were no prying eyes other than the creators themselves. He took every name and branded it on his soul. Never forgetting a single face that snarled at him in hate and fear. He deserved all of it, all the animosity and all the cries of rage and anguish. He allowed it to drape over his very being as if it were a blanket that he used to emotionally smother himself. Others thought that the destroyer made his dolls as a form of a trophy. But the reality was that he made dolls so that he would remember every single monster he ever hurt. He could not forget; he would never allow himself to fail to remember. He did not deserve the small mercy of being allowed to not recall his horrid deeds. 

But what no one realized was that Error had not chosen to be the destroyer of worlds. It was forced upon him the moment he was rewritten into the universes code. The creators needed someone to take care of the corrupted, virus ridden, and forgotten AU’s that were taking up necessary space. It was a dirty job, one that added a fissure to his soul each time he carried it out. But someone had to do it, unfortunately for Error that someone was him. 

Error still remembered the first time he had been forced to destroy. It was before he truly understood the balance and why destruction was needed. He used to fight against the voices of the creators that echoed in his head. Often curling up into a ball in the antivoid not moving or responding, purposefully going into a comatose state as if dead. This method did not always work, but it would sometimes make the voices quiet down once they realize that they were not going to get anything out of him in his current state. 

However, one day the voices grew to an overwhelming crescendo that Error could no longer ignore. He had attempted to distract himself with star gazing, but the voices had been relentless. Their shrieking and demanding becoming too much for Error to endure. In the end he had passed out while gripping his skull screaming and pleading for the creators to stop. Error’s vision going blurry and his fingers gripping the bones of his temples to the point of leaving deep gouges. 

But when Error regained consciousness, he was no longer under the great expanse of the stars but instead back in his void. Confused Error had looked around dazed, attempting to figure out how he had managed to get back. In his stunned state Error’s muddled mind had been able to figure out that something was off. The first thing he noticed was that his hands felt oddly burdensome. Looking down he realized that five feet of his strings slack and heavy were attached to his shaking fingers.  
It was odd he had not had any recollection of summoning his strings before he passed out. However, he had been in immense pain. It did make sense that perhaps his body had brought them out unconsciously in order to defend himself from an enemy that was not physically present. But they were not usually this heavy and since they were formed of his magic normally, they disappeared after he was done with them. It was then that his clouded mind seemed to clear itself. He took a closer look at his strings and noticed that the once vibrant blue of his threads was now a dull gray and rusted red color. It took him a moment of staring before the reasons for the color change truly dawned on him. Error’s face twisted in dread once realization truly hit him that it was blood and dust, his strings were caked in blood and dust. 

Error opened his mouth to yell out, only to choke on the dust that was congealed inside of his mouth. Oh, Starts, he felt it everywhere! It reached into every nook and cranny of his clothes. He could feel the dust between his joints scraping against each other like fine grains of sand. His mouth and five tongues were heavy with a thick paste that his magic saliva and the dust had mixed to create. He could feel the fine dust behind his eye lights coating the inside of his eye sockets. The sensations brought horror and nausea crashing over Error in overwhelming waves. He violently fell onto his hands and knees proceeding to projectile vomit a liquid form of his magic. 

Even after all of Error’s magic reserves were gone, he kept retching and heaving. His whole-body convulsing as error signs began to fill his vision. Error became aware of a loud mechanical screeching noise that sounded like a high-powered drill attempting to scrape against steel, filling the space around him. Right before he crashed, he recognized that the noise was coming from him, ripping itself out of his nonexistent throat. 

After that incident Error quickly learned that if he ignored the voices for long enough, he would blackout and wake up covered in blood and dust. He was able to remember what happened later, but it was like watching a gruesome movie in his own mind. He was basically unconscious as his body went out and brutally wreaked havoc while in some form of twisted autopilot. He had no control or awareness during those moments. A broken and insane smile stretching over his face as a glitched-out horrid laugh reverberated around him cutting thru the screams of those he killed.

After Error had understood that if he ignored the creators his body would go into a murdering autopilot. He had attempted several different methods to stop himself. All the methods he had tried had failed terribly, except one, though it had not been on purpose on Error’s end. The first time Error had managed to avoid destroying an AU was after Ink had killed him for the very first time. If had been after a rough battle, Error had barely managed to drag his broken and beaten body back to the safety of his antivoid before he had crumbled to dust. As a part of the balance, Error could not die, or rather at least not permanently. He could be killed if enough damage were taken but he would simply regenerate in the antivoid after an indiscernible amount of time. After Error had discovered this however, he had gone to great lengths to make sure that no one ever knew of his immortality.

During the time of his regeneration apparently, a new AU had come into being too close to Underswap copy 67. The moment Error had awoken in his antivoid he gripped his skull and almost attempted to kill himself again using his own strings. Due to the agony that was caused by the intense commotion that flooded his mind immediately upon his consciousness returning. The voices of the creators were screaming in anguish, pleading and begging for him to go destroy. The creators often demanded and ordered that Error go destroy. But never in his life had they bothered to ask, not to mention beg Error for anything. This put Error on edge and made him immediately sprint to the coordinates that were being howled into his mind. What he saw made him freeze in horror, the shock managed to even block out the creators from his mind for a moment. 

When the new AU began to grow it came into contact with Underswap copy 67. The moment the two had touched what had resulted was a horrifying melding of the two AU’s. All the monsters and even the human fused to their AU counterparts. It was sickening to see, the mashed body parts blended together never truly fitting with one another correctly but not being able to separate. They were all in agony, they were constantly screaming and begging for death. Their souls were in constant rejection of one another refusing to merge completely causing the inhabitants of the AU to become deformed and horrifying. The worlds themselves fused and became a mashed mess that could no longer support any form of vegetation or proper life, the corners of the Au’s reality were beginning to bend and shift falling apart and unraveling at the seams. 

But like amalgamates it seemed that the now cursed creatures that were once monsters were unable to die by normal means. Forced into a horrid combination of soul and flesh and left to starve. All the while their very souls attempting to annihilate and cannibalize their counterparts that they were fused to. The atrocious remains of the AU were beginning to stretch out towards other healthy AU’s around it. As if reaching out for help. 

Error was Still frozen in place by a mix of dismay and disbelief. Before he could stop it, he stared in revulsion as the deformed and virus ridden AU reached out and touched a third AU. Underfell Copy 97 and began to absorb it like a ravenous beast. It seemed that the AU was attempting to fix itself by reaching out to the other healthy AUs around it. But all it was managing to do was spread its virus ridden and tainted self everywhere, infecting those around it. Error was not above admitting that he vomited at the horrendous sight before him. Even while retching he was still unable to rip his eyes away from the terrible things he was witnessing.

It was at that moment Error realized the importance that his role played in the universe. It was true that he hated being the destroyer and every death on his hands added a crack to his soul. But even he had to admit death was better than whatever this existence could be called that these poor monsters were being forced to endure. What had once only been one AU that had to be destroyed, quickly became a mass genocide of three Au’s in one go. It had been the first time that Error had willingly destroyed an AU and it would not be the last. 

After that incident Errors dynamic with the voices had changed. They were kinder to him and no longer screamed at him or made loud demands. Instead, it seemed that with his grim acceptance of his role as the destroyer came a sort of calm and understanding between himself and the creators. They showed concern for him and even began to inform him whenever Ink and the Star Sans were getting to close. They would even hold conversations with him at length about various topics, making sure to always keep their voices soft unless in a case of emergency. In order not to overwhelm him and cause the terrible mind splitting headaches that they once did. It was a bit odd and off-putting for Error at first. He had a hard time accepting the beings that forced him to destroy into his life. But after a while, he had come to accept the odd disembodied voices as a part of his world.


	2. Lonely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some sexual and graphic scenes in this next chapter, as well as some emotional abuse. Please take note of the tags that I have on this story before continuing.

Error was still recovering from the nonstop creation spree that Ink had gone on. It had seemed that Ink had finally calmed down a bit. Which gave Error a moment to metaphorically catch his breath. At first, Error had found it a bit difficult to relax. After the nonstop destruction, he had to commit the past few months, the destroyer felt perpetually on edge. Error just kept holding his breath and waiting for the moment the creators would call out to him again. Their voices echoing in his skull telling him that he needed to go destroy more AU’s. Error only managed to truly calm down once some of the creators took notice of his predicament. They promptly proceeded to reassure him that Ink did not look like he was going to bring any new Au’s into being at the moment and that Error should take advantage of the lull in activity and relax.

After the voices reassured Error multiple times that no, he was not going to be called out to destroy for a while. Error had managed to soothe his thoughts and was taking the time he was given to enjoy a valuable moment to himself. Lounging on his bean bag while crocheting a new doll. Error’s glasses were taped to the sides of his head and he had a portal window open to undernovela. Every now and then the voices would interrupt his watching of the AU to discuss some of the obvious plot holes in several of the characters' stories. But Error would simply shush them and continue watching with rapt attention. 

Apparently, Toriel had just announced to Asgoro that she was pregnant and that he might not be the father. What had followed was an uproar that shook the town. Now Asgoro was currently standing in the middle of town square his trident out and ready. Meanwhile, Gaster the priest was actively attempting to calm him down. But Asgoro was not having any of it, he continued to demand that the other possible father step forward and face him like a real man! Asgoro was threatening to kill the other man who had dared to touch his wife. 

Error looked down and his crochet project and began to count his stitches making sure he did not miss one. Undernovela tended to be mostly re-runs, he knew that sans was the other possible father. Still thou despite knowing the outcome for most of the obstacles in undernovela the destroyer still enjoyed watching it immensely, re-runs or not. 

However, what Error had not expected was for Undyne to step forward spear in hand, she stood tall and proud. Undyne then proceeded to announce to all of Undernovela that it was not a male, but instead she herself a female monster that had impregnated Toriel. 

Error looked up so quickly that he could have sworn he had audibly heard one of his vertebrae crack. Now, this was new! It was always Sans who was the other possible father of the child. Error watched holding his breath transfixed as Undyne claimed that she was the other possible sire of Toriel’s unborn young. Undyne went on to say that she was sorry for betraying her mentor Asgoro’s trust and that if he truly desired it, she would fight him to the death with honor. 

Monster pregnancies relied heavily on the intent of souls. The only way for two monsters to produce young was thru soul bonding. The actual act of physical sex was not even necessary when it came to procreation. Which meant that it did not really matter if the monsters were the same sex or not. A monster offspring could be sired by two females or two males, it was more about the intent of the soul than anything else. Error allowed a small gasp to leave his mouth when Toriel ran between the two monsters’ arms stretched wide. The female boss monster began to exclaim sobbing that if they wanted to fight, they would have to kill her first and her unborn young in the process. Asgoro yelled out in anguish falling to his knees and beating the ground. Error was so excited at the recent plot development that he could not hide the smile that stretched over his face. Ohhhhhh, this was such a good episode, things were really getting spicy!

Error was so absorbed in the new developments in Undernovela that he did not perceive the voices of the creators go eerily silent. Error did take notice however when he heard wet squishing emanating a few yards behind where he was lounging in his bean bag chair. Error quickly turned his head to see a large puddle of ink form on the floor of his antivoid. A sinking feeling entered his soul as he watched the ink begin to take the form of a skeleton that was roughly a foot taller than himself.  
Quickly standing up and turning towards the figure, Undernovela forgotten behind him. Error turned to see Ink wordlessly walking towards him. Ink’s eyes narrowed in on Error as he began to loosen the long tan scarf that he always wore around his neck. Error watched as the guardian of Creation allowed the scarf to fall to the floor of the antivoid behind him, not taking a moment to pause in his purposeful march in the destroyer’s direction. 

“What are you doing here you abomination?” Error’s voice was deep, full of static and glitching. He would admit that he used that insult rather often. But in Inks case it was less of an insult and more of a description. He was a soulless being after all, it was a mystery how he was even allowed to survive. Error had once asked the creators about it, but the answer that he had gotten was a garbled whispering and then dead silence for the rest of the day. Honestly had Error known it was that easy to shut the voices up, he would have asked about Inks origins a long time ago. 

“We talked about this Error. We talked about you destroying AU’s. Why can’t you just ever let me produce new Au’s like the creators want? Why is it every time I turn around, I am being told about some poor innocent Au that you have slaughtered in cold blood?” Inks voice was eerily cheerful as he said those words, his slow calm march in Error’s direction never pausing.

“How many times must I repeat myself Ink? I am also fulfilling the will of the creators. Destruction is needed for the balance. If you took a moment to stop mass producing Au’s without restraint, than maybe you could see that. I would not have to destroy as much either if you agreed to create less. Our multiverse is so overloaded that we are to the point that for every new Au you create I have to destroy one to keep the balance in check.” Error glared at the Guardian of creation. He made sure to stand tall when he talked, he needed to stand firm in his conviction when he spoke to Ink. 

Ink whose voice was still taking on a merry note, tutted at Error, “Error stop it with your lying. There is no excuse for what you do. The countless deaths on your hands are disgusting. Do not try to justify your actions with this fake concept of the so-called balance. That is not a real thing Error, none of that exists.” Ink had discarded various pieces of his clothing during his short walk to where Error was standing. All that was left of inks clothes were his shorts, socks, and his paint vial sash. The latter of which he was no longer wearing, but instead currently carrying in his hands. His upper torso was bare, and his shorts were out of place, hanging low on his hips.

“I am not lying I told you I hear the voices of the Creators. You are not the only one that follows their will.” Error knew that nothing he said would ever get thru to Ink, no matter how hard he tried. But a part of him had to keep attempting no matter what. 

“Error, the voices you hear are from your own insanity, your mind manifested them because you spend so much time in this white endless antivoid. The voices are a construct of your own mind, the creators do not talk using words. They communicate thru emotions. How many times do I have to tell you this? Repeatedly we go over this conversation like broken records. Aren’t you sick of it?” Inks voice had gone unnervingly soft, his now pinprick white eye lights staring unblinkingly at Error. 

“They communicate with you the guardian of creation, thru the paints that the Au’s secrete when they are first created. It would make sense that they would communicate with you from an artistic standpoint. Doesn’t it also make sense then that they would converse with me the destroyer in a different manner? One that would suit me personally. I am not artistic like you, so they use words with me.” Error knew that things were about to get messy. He quickly took off his sweatshirt and glasses, not wanting them to break. He used some of his string making sure that both the objects were safely placed in the nest of tangled thread above him. Error tensed as Ink came to a stop in front of him, the only barrier between them was the destroyer's beloved bean bag chair. 

“Oh Error…” Ink’s voice radiated pity as if he were talking to a young child that did not understand right from wrong or a wounded animal that was huddled in a corner. “You really should know better by now. When will you learn?” He gave Error a large warm smile gently shaking his head back and forth as if scolding a charming infant who was being disobedient.  
Error stiffened attempting to prepare himself, he knew what was coming next. In a flash so quick that had Error blinked he would have missed it. Ink launched himself over the bean bag chair arms outstretched, reaching out towards the destroyer. Ink grabbed Error by the neck and slammed him down onto the ground with such force that a crunching noise was heard. Error winced and gritted his teeth as a sharp pain shot thru the part of his skull that had made contact with the ground. He let out a snarl of indignation when ink straddled him taking the cloth of Error’s red shirt and ripping it into shreds until his bare ribs were on display. Several error signs bean to appear on the exposed portions of Error’s body. But Ink paid no mind to the destroyer’s discomfort, nor did Error bother to tell the guardian of creation to stop. 

Error hissed and flinched as Ink bit down on his collar bone roughly using his sharp incisors to dig deeper into the thin bone. Error could feel his bone marrow beading along the bite mark as Ink steadily began to increase the pressure of his teeth. A small snapping noise echoed around them. Ink had bitten down so hard that he had broken Error’s collar bone into two pieces.  
As if pretending to be sorry for the inflicted injury, Ink pulled back and proceeded to coo and lick at the area where the bone was snapped and oozing marrow. He did not let up with his ministrations despite the obvious pain that it caused Error. This action of course only irritated the damage and caused Error to grit his teeth even harder and let out a glitchy whimper. More error signs began to cover the destroyer’s vision and figure. 

Ink reached down and with no hesitation ripped off the destroyer’s pants just as he had previously done to his shirt. Error winced at the obliteration of the precious articles of clothing. Grateful that he had the foresight to put away his glasses and cherished sweatshirt when the guardian had entered the antivoid. Grabbing both sides of Errors leg bones Ink held them in a vice like grip yanking them to the side forcefully so that he would have access to Error’s pelvis with no obstacles. Error was no where near turned on enough to summon his ecto genitalia. However, this did not deter Ink whatsoever, he settled his skull between the destroyer’s legs and proceeded to lick and nip all along the hollow circle of Error’s pelvis. Error flinched as Ink attacked the tender area with his rather harsh treatment. The destroyer’s eyes began to water at the scarcely pleasurable but mostly painful sensations that the Guardian of creation was imposing on him. 

Error honestly was not sure when all of this started or even how it all began. It had become almost normal for them to have these occasional interactions. Ink would make his way into Error’s antivoid without any invitation or warning and then proceed to engage the destroyer in a mixture of punishment and rough sex for what felt like a small eternity.

A part of Error was ashamed of his weakness, allowing his enemy to do these things to him. Technically Error knew that it would only take a second for him to throw Ink off him and banish the guardian of creation from the antivoid if he really tried. Thou most others would say Ink and Error were evenly matched in abilities. The truth of the matter was, that when it came to raw power Error was the more formidable to the two. When it came to creativity and strategic planning, Ink excelled. These two differences were what allowed the creator and Destroyer to end up toe to toe, with their battles often culminating into an unofficial draw. Error internally realized that he should fight back against Inks advances, or at the very least attempt to resist in some manner. 

The destroyer really did hate what he and Ink were doing. Every one of Ink’s touches stung, and every bite and lick left the destroyers bones feeling like they were physically on fire. All of this hurt and none of it felt good even for a second. Every single bit of contact that the guardian of creation’s body made with Error’s physique. Caused the destroyer’s haphephobia to flair triggering extreme agony and glitching.

But… But there was a part of Error that desired this. The part of him that had just been alone for so long. It was the reason why the destroyer was not actively removing the guardian from his domain. Ink hated him and viewed Error as the personal antagonist of his life. During these rare moments of their shared intimacy, the guardian would shatter Error’s bones and used him as a sex doll for stress relief. Not caring for a moment about the destroyer's wants or needs. The rough and harsh treatment from Ink during these sessions caused Error endless suffering. 

But Error would revel in every second of it. Not because he enjoyed it, or even wanted it. But because no matter how painful every bite, break, hit, or touch was. For a little while, the destroyer was not alone… For a few precious moments, someone was willing to be close and intimate with him. Despite all his horrible deeds and all the blood on his hands. For a little bit of time Error was held and regardless of every one of his instincts internally denying it. For a moment if he ignored the pain and suffering that he was actively enduring. Error could almost trick himself into believing that this was before everything in his life fell apart. Back before the code transformed him, and he was just a regular San’s. Before he was forced to become the destroyer and hated by everyone. Back when he had the privilege to go to sleep with another’s warmth and comfort wrapped around him.  
Of course, Error knew none of Ink’s touches stemmed from any form of affection or love. The Guardian made that fairly obvious each time he scratched, snapped, or gouged Error’s poor mistreated bones. But just having someone that was willing to be close to him was so rare. That the destroyer found himself unable to tell Ink to stop no matter how terrible it all was. 

Error was sharply broken out of his thoughts by Ink roughly thrusting into him without any real preparation. All of Ink’s earlier ministrations to Error’s pelvis had managed to get Error’s ecto genitalia to instinctively form. But the guardian apparently did not see any reason to prepare the destroyer with further foreplay. Error grit his teeth, his spine arching as Ink plunged his full length into him instantly. Both their pelvises met with a loud and aching clatter. Not allowing the strained destroyer a moment to adjust to the intrusion, Ink immediately began to move viciously inside of him. Error’s jaw opened and he allowed himself a small noise of pain as the guardian proceeded to repeatedly and brutally ram in and out of his tender sex. Error could feel the hairline cracks beginning to form on his pelvis as Ink’s bones unforgivingly and repeatedly clacked with his own. 

This went on for what felt like forever, until finally, Ink gave a shudder grabbing Error’s hip bones so hard his fingers left gouges. He pulled Error’s body to him and held his hips still as if the destroyer were attempting to get away. Error let out a keening sound of protest as he felt the other's magic fill him. He was acutely aware of Ink’s liquid magic invading his. The Destroyer and Creator's magic were more or less complete opposites of each other. So, Error was more sensitive to Ink’s magic than he was to others. But the destroyer knew better than to think that the guardian was done with him. Before Error could calm his ragged breathing, Ink bit down on one of Errors false ribs so hard that it snapped off. Pulling the destroyer roughly towards him once more, the guardian continued to move his hips, once again pounding into Error’s abused Ecto at a grueling pace. 

When it was finally over, after Error had long lost count of the number of times he was taken. Ink would stand up and avoid looking in Error’s direction completely. The guardian would not even spare a word, getting up like a shadow and leaving Error naked, raw, and twitching on whatever surface they had done the deed on. Error was not naive enough to expect the other to show him love or even kindness, so he never voiced any complaint. But deep down in the depths of his soul, as he was left shivering on the floor of the antivoid his ripped clothing scattered around him. Broken bones and missing pieces of his skeleton strewn around his prone frame. The destroyer could not help the twinge that he felt as he watched Ink wordlessly get dressed and leave thru a portal. A part of Error wondered if the soulless being was even able to take any form of enjoyment out of their coupling at all. Or was it all just about the satisfaction the guardian of creation gained thru control and domination? The fact that he was able to have the destroyer under him with little resistance as he took him cruelly. 

Error managed to drag his battered body to the shower that was in his Antivoid. Surprisingly, it had been made by Ink after their very first coupling together. Not out of kindness or any sort of positive intention of course. In fact, it was not even a gift. Ink had wanted to bathe after their intercourse and upon realizing Error did not have a shower, sink, tub, or any sort of running water in the antivoid. The guardian had spontaneously decided to create one. He then promptly left like he always did without ever bothering to look back. Though Error hated the bastard, and he would never admit it to Ink. The destroyer quietly confessed to himself that having an actual working shower in his home was quite nice. How it managed to produce water was still honestly a mystery to him, but that was a secrecy he was pleasantly grateful for. 

Error reached down to tentatively touch his abused sex. Ink was exceptionally rough this time around and as a result Error’s ecto was torn and bruised, a slow but steady stream of his liquid magic flowing down his legs along with Inks. Error stared at the shower floor as the water swept their combined magic and his bone marrow down the drain. Error cringed at the pain, he was not the best at healing magic, it did not come naturally to him like it did some others. Thou he had no real fear of permanent damage or infection. Eco unlike flesh was made of magic and extremely resilient. 

All he really had to do was dismiss the magic that made up his ecto, and make sure not to summon it for a few days. The next time his ecto flesh came back he would be good as new. The main problem that arose right now was that Ink’s magic was still in him. The ecto would not allow itself to be dismissed until the foreign magic was cleared out. Error’s soul and ecto clearly knew that this was not its owner's magic and would not allow its ecto to be reabsorbed into its owner’s soul while mixed with foreign magic. That could endanger the soul. (Almost like mixing incompatible blood types.) 

When it came to physical sex, it was one thing for the ecto to house foreign magic, but the soul was an entirely different thing altogether. Error grimaced and resigned himself to cleaning his raw nether regions. Each of his gentle touches felt like he was grinding his poor lower half on sandpaper. Wincing, Error managed to get himself cleaned up before leaning against the shower wall slowly sinking down to the floor limp. Allowing the hot water to fall over him and cleanse his bones, and open wounds of any remaining magic that Ink may have left on his body. 

Error had no idea how long he sat in the shower just staring off into space. But by the time he got out all he wanted to do was sleep. Before he could do that though he needed to reconnect his broken-off bone fragments back to their original postions. Error bit down on a towel as he reconnected what was broken. Using his strings Error managed to bind each of the bones back to their respective positions. Grabbing one of his spare shirts and shorts he put them on before collapsing onto his bean bag. It only took seconds before he fell into a deep dreamless sleep.


	3. Shock

Error did not know how long he slept for. But when he awoke, the first thing he became aware of was his whole body feeling extremely sore and heavy. Everything Hurt… EVERYTHING… It felt like he had been put into a woodchipper and then spat back out again. 

Error took his fingers and ran them over his collar bone. It was reattached together again but the area where Ink had broken it still felt rather new and raw, with obvious tender bone remodeling still present. Which made no sense, the damage Error had taken from Ink was not nearly enough to kill him. Usually, after a good sleep, his magic would reattach and heal any broken bones. Regenerating limbs took a bit longer to heal since his body was growing things from the ground up. But Error had all the broken off bone pieces in his possession. He had made sure to bind them back to where they belonged after his shower. His body should have reattached and fully healed them by now no problem. There would be several new scars of course, but the wound itself should have closed. The destroyer always seemed to keep his scars, even if he went thru a full regeneration his scars always followed him. Even when his body newly formed it would be covered head to toe in marks from previous battles and injuries. 

It was then that Error took notice of the Creator's frantic whispering among themselves. He could not make out any of their words. He wanted to ignore them, but his sore and achy body mixed with the ceaseless whispered humming that was echoing inside of his skull only managed to add to his irritability that the injuries were causing him. Whenever the creators spoke their sentences echoed. Their voices were both soft whispers that in some way managed to sound like loud screams. It was the reason why Error hated it whenever more than one of them spoke at a time. The resounding headache that their voices caused was a nightmare for him. 

“Is there something you want to say!?” Error snapped at the voices rather harshly. He was just not in the mood physically or emotionally for the odd behavior that the creators were displaying. 

There was a pause and then dead silence that stretched for a long period of time. Error honestly thought that the creators were not going to answer him. But the moment he started to settle back down, the frenzied whispering began again, this time doubling twofold in both volume and agitation.

“If you are not going to talk to me then please shut up! I am not in the mood to deal with your inaudible vague noises! I also am not going out to destroy today either! My body is much too tender and compromised due to your beloved Guardian.” Error’s tone held no room for argument. A part of him honestly wished that the creators would try to make him destroy today. That way he would have a reason to release his bottled-up stress and anger upon them with no holding back. 

The voices all stopped again, Error sighed in relief and shifted slightly in his bean bag chair in an attempt to get more comfortable and ease the irritation from his injuries. He finally gave up when all the shifting managed to do was aggravate his wounds and make him wince in pain. 

Mentally resigning himself to a full day of being curled up in a ball and not moving or leaving his bean bag. Error closed his eyes, hoping that maybe more sleep would help move his healing along faster. That was until a lone soft voice echoed in his head. “Hey…. How are you feeling? Are you ok?” 

Error groaned, still attempting to move as little as possible he shifted just enough to glare up at the ceiling of his antivoid. He was mildly grateful however that the creators had decided that one voice would do the talking as to not aggravate the destroyer any further by causing him a headache via overloading his mind with their plethora of voices. “I think I have already answered that question. If you are attempting to see if I am willing to go out and destroy today. My answer remains the same. I physically am not up to it, so don’t even bother.” Error Snapped at the soft voice angrily. Though the destroyer did not often sleep, due to not usually having a need or time to spare for it. All he wanted to do at this moment was slumber. Everything hurt and he really did not feel well at the moment. 

But the voice was undeterred at Error’s snappish demeanor, “We are not going to ask you to destroy today so don’t worry. There is not AU’s so urgent at the moment that you need to get up for. But we just wanted to check on you. Are you sure that nothing feels off or different?” 

Error was slightly taken aback by the voice's line of questioning. The creators never truly left, even when they went silent Error knew that they were still bearing witness to all that happened in the Multiverse. It had taken him quite a significant amount of time to accept that, bathing had not been an enjoyable activity when he had first realized that he permanently had an audience to everything he did. 

“You saw what I went thru last night. So, you can imagine that I am not feeling all that great, as I have already stated multiple times now. How many times must I repeat myself for you?” Error was now looking up at the ceiling suspiciously. 

“Yes, but this time is a little different it would seem.” More voiced began to whisper in garbled hushed tones, overriding the single soft voice that had been speaking to Error. 

Error Sat up despite his bodies protests not to, “Different how? What do you mean different?” The voices tended not to comment to much on Error and Inks intimate time when it occurred. That included Error’s physical condition the next day. 

Error had multiple theories as to why that was. He was not sure if it was because the creators had no idea what to say about it. Or if perhaps they did not agree with the coupling. Or maybe even the fact that they themselves could not deny that their precious guardian went a bit too far with his brutality towards the destroyer. 

It was both a source of frustration and gratitude for Error. It frustrated him that the creators never called Ink out on any of his wrongs, not that the guardian of creation could necessarily hear them. On the other hand, he was appreciative for their discreetness when it came to that part of his life. But now the fact they were bringing it up had him rather alarmed.

However, once he had asked his question, it appeared that the voices had deemed their conversation over. Error received no response despite his many shouts and questions. Only the white silence of his antivoid answered his inquiries. Huffing and grumbling, at the abrupt end of their conversation. Error laid back in his bean bag, the combined movement and yelling had subsequently made his ribs and spine ache even worse than when he had first woken up. 

Error reached down and rubbed his shirt where his ribs were located. Only to pause at the odd solid feeling that greeted him. His ribs were like normal but instead of the hollow spine that should be in place of his abdomen, he felt a solid area. What in the stars…. 

Error lifted up his shirt to find that there was an ecto formation on his body. Starting from the top of his hips bones and going up to meet the bottom of his rib cage. The sole time Error formed ecto was to make his genitalia and that ecto only formed in the hollow circle of his pelvic bone. Never anywhere else on his physique. 

Error began to run his hands up and down the newly formed ecto of his abdomen. He attempted to dismiss it, only for nothing to happen at all. Alarmed he momentarily forgot his pain and quickly sat up. This however proved to be a rather terrible decision as almost all his bones seemed to creak and pop at the large movement. Wincing at the pain but too concerned over the new development of his magic to pause. Error proceeded to sluggishly stand up with the help of his strings. Error used his stings as a type of pully system to gradually help pull himself into an upright position. The destroyer was rather ashamed to admit that it took him quite a bit of time to actually get to his feet. It seemed that no matter what he did or how he moved his injuries tugged and throbbed terribly. 

“Damn Ink Stain, next time I see him I’m going to rip his limbs off one by one.” Error grit his teeth as sweat poured down his skull due to the pain. He continued to mutter threats and promises towards Ink’s demise to himself angrily.

Once he managed to get into a standing position, panting heavily Error paused for a moment putting almost all his weight on the strings supporting him. He wiped the sweat out of his eye sockets and braced himself. Forcing his tender and quivering legs to support his hurting body. Error allowed for one of his hands to let go of his supporting threads. It took him a moment to make absolutely sure that his wobbly body would be able to stand without falling. 

Once the destroyer was positive of the steadiness of his balance. Error used his now free hand to summon more threads. Reaching out towards the massive nest of strings above him Error pulled down a full-length mirror from its depths. Gently lowing it until it stood upright directly in front of him, he proceeded to lift up his shirt so that his ecto was in full view. The image that met his eyes almost made him fall over and crash.

“What the heck is that!?” Error stared sockets widened with shock and panic once he regained the ability to speak again. Nestled in the lower portion of his ecto was a seed shaped object that was around the size of his hand. It was black and shiny with what looked to be a dense liquid texture that was constantly moving and flowing. The black coloring appeared to shift and gleam as if it were coated in a type of shimmery Ink like substance. There were vivid rainbow-like blotched spots scattered all over the surface of the black object. 

Error felt the room begin to swim around him, error signs began to fill his vision as nausea and confusion overtook him. He had no idea what to think or what to do. This was madness, if he did not know any better, he would think that was a clot nestled inside of him. But that was impossible, utter insanity, laughable even. A clot can only be made when two monsters decided to soul bond with one another and even then, they both had to have intentions of creating new life. Error had NEVER done that with anyone before. 

The last person he was physically with was Ink and even then, it had only been physical sex. No souls had been summoned during their intercourse. There was no way that their interaction could have brought a clot into being. It was not tangibly possible. On top of that Ink had no soul! In order to create life both parents needed souls! 

Feeling the antivoid begin to spin around him Error collapsed heavily onto his bean bag that was right behind him. To shocked to feel the pain that was caused by his rough movement. Error leaned forward and held his skull in his hands. “This… This is not real… This CAN’T be real.” 

It was then during his crises the voices of course, decided to interject themselves into his life once again. “It is real, you are truly clot bound, congratulations Error! You are going to be a parent!” 

Error looked up at the ceiling of his antivoid face blank and eye lights extinguished. “Are you all idiots? How is this a good thing?” 

“A new youngling is always a thing to celebrate! We are happy for you!” The voices cheered in Error’s head only adding to the absurdity of the whole situation. 

“I. AM. THE. DESTROYER. OF. WORLDS.” Error made sure to say each word slowly and deliberately. He wanted to make sure that the creators understood the gravity of this situation. “I cannot carry a clot. Especially the clot of my enemy!” 

“But Error Ink is not your enemy! He is your other half! The other side to the balance!” The voices all chimed in together causing Error’s temples to throb painfully. 

“You know what I meant! Why don’t you go tell him that for once, huh!?” Error yelled angrily at the voices. Tears of frustration were beginning to fill his sockets at their seemingly laid-back and unreasonably excited reaction to the youngling within him. “I.. I can’t do this…” 

“Error, once a clot is conceived the only way to get rid of it, is to either kill the birther or cut off the clots magic supply. Both methods are cruel to mutually you and the baby. Not to mention extremely lethal for both of you. We would rather avoid your death if we can. There is no telling how long it would take you to regenerate. Each time you die, it always takes a different amount of time for you to come back. It is risky and worrisome for the balance when you are unreachable like that. There is more chance of Au’s rotting and going completely berserk during the period you are out of commission. The other option of Cutting off the magic supply to the clot would involve crippling your own soul, you would be in extreme agony the whole time and your magic usage would be almost nonexistent. The clot's soul is deeply intertwined with yours. Even if you did manage to pull that off and withstand the suffering. Such action would not guarantee a quick death for the youngling. The clot could very well survive for months until it wastes away to nothing. It is a cruel method that is horrible to do on purpose. We would hate for you to do that to your own youngling or yourself.” The voices sounded sad as they explained the only options Error would be able to take should he wish to get rid of the clot. 

Feeling the whole situation weighing on his shoulders. In a softer tone Error mumble, “It is too dangerous for me to carry young. I have no mate to provide me with the excess magic the clot will require. Everyone in the multiverse wants my dust. There is nothing I can offer this small life inside of me. This poor creature is as cursed as I am, being plagued with Ink and I as its parents.” Error looked down at his ecto studying the small seed-shaped clot inside of him. Error truly meant his words; he really did not think he could do this. But despite that, the thought of doing anything to hurt the small being nestled inside of him, made the destroyer physically ill. 

Error felt an incomprehensible, almost feral protective emotion well up inside of him. The more he observed the tiny clot snuggled safely in his lower abdomen, the more he wanted to curl around it and protect it from all the awful things that the multiverse had to offer. His gaze softened and his mouth set into a pain-filled smile as his skull began to shake back and forth slowly. Placing both of his trembling hands gently over the small clot, he allowed for his fingers to make soothing caressing motions. Error’s soul cried out at the thought of the absence of this tiny life. The Destroyer’s hands froze mid rub when he came to the realization that he desired this. Error’s soul was shouting that it wanted this clot more than anything. Despite its other creator being a rather non-desirable candidate for a sire. His soul wanted to be able to adore it and raise it. To watch it grow up, strong and healthy. Error could not deny that he already cherished the little thing, and it was only at the most a few days old. Depending on how long he had been passed out for. The truth of it all was that Error’s soul wanted something that he could love, and that would in return willingly love him back. 

But Error could not take care of a baby bones. He was the destroyer of worlds for stars sake. Even if Error had by some miracle managed to find a willing mate and proceeded to purposely create this clot. he was not fit to sire children. Not to mention be the actual birther! 

Birthers were the parent that housed the young within their very bodies. Though the baby bones would love both parents, their relationship with their birther was always more intimate than that of their relationship with their sire. The youngling’s soul would be closely tied to the birther's soul while housed in the parents’ body. Even after delivery the youngling would not have a fully formed soul and would need to be close to the birther's soul in order to survive. The baby bones would be physically dependent on Error for the first two years of its existence. The youngling would literally not be able to leave the birther's side for extended periods of time until they were three years of age. 

“What am I supposed to do, take the baby bones with me while I go destroy worlds!? Oh hey, it’s come with daddy to work day! Let me show you the difference between screams of rage and screams of terror!” Error’s voice was filled with bitter sarcasm. But despite that, he could not bring himself to stop caressing his ecto gently. 

“Awwwww, you want to clot to call you daddy?” The voices all chimed in together cooing with soft tones.  
Error threw up his hands in defeat and hopelessness, “You are of no help whatsoever!” 

“Well, if it makes you feel better the child will probably not be like other baby bones. After all it is the offspring of the destroyer and guardian of creation. Ink should never have been able to sire young in the first place since he has no soul. So, the chances are that this child will be different from normal ones. Maybe you will be able to separate from it for longer periods of time? Even if you cannot, it would be good to take him along, get him used to the balance while he is still young. It will make it easier for him to accept it in the long run.” The voices took on a factual tone as they said this. 

Error would have snapped at the creators for their ridiculous suggestion of bringing his youngling with him to see the horrors of the destruction he had to commit. But Error immediately froze once he fully processed their words. His arms falling limp at his sides as a new revelation flared in his mind. “Ink has no soul… What if this child is like Ink and has no soul? What if it needs paints for emotions just like Ink?” 

Error began to stare into the white of the antivoid dread rising in his chest. How would he even… How did he deal with that? As the Destroyer, he physically could not collect the paint. Only the guardian of creation could accumulate the paint that appears upon the formation of new AU’s. Was his clot going to be doomed to be some emotionless creature like its sire? Except it would be even worse for the poor youngling since it would not even have the paint to fall back on. 

“We highly doubt that… Ink was not always the way he was. He had a soul at one point. What happened to him was not thru natural means. Your child should have no problems in that department.” The voices all began to reassure the now obviously panicking Destroyer. 

Error paused at that; the creators were never willing to talk about Inks origins. This news was extremely interesting to Error. He had always assumed that Ink had been created as some sort of soulless abomination. Though he could never figure out why the creators would do something so callous. “He used to have a soul?” 

“All living monsters and humans have souls Error. We would never be so cruel as to create something without a soul. Now that being said, all beings are only ever given one soul. What they do with it from there is the result of their own decisions and the consequences that follow those choices.” Multiple creators were speaking, and their voices echoed through Error’s skull. But he was too busy having a revelation to acknowledge the pain it caused him. 

This was a lot for the destroyer to take in, it put a whole new perspective on the Ink stain. “Wait so you’re telling me he made himself soulless? Why on earth would he do something like that? That is insane!” 

“That is all we can share. Just as we do not tell Ink of your origins, we cannot tell you completely of his. The only reason why we shared as much as we did, is so that you can realize and be reassured that the clot will be born with a soul.” The voices began to become fainter a sign that they were going to stop talking soon.

“But you can’t communicate with the Ink stain.” Error gave the ceiling of his antivoid an unamused look. Of course, the creators would not tell Ink about Error’s origins. He squid could not hear their voices in the first place! 

“True, but even if we could talk to Ink. We still would not tell him of your origins. You both lost so much in order to become the keepers of the balance. It is only right that you both be allowed to keep your true origins to yourself. At the very least you both should be allowed to decide who you share the story of your beginnings with.” The voices all used a tone that made it very clear that their decision was final. Error knew that he would not be getting anything else out of them about Ink’s background. 

It did frustrated Error, but he had to admit. The destroyer had learned more about Ink in this one conversation than he had in the past hundred years that he had been fighting the guardian. Error felt relief bloom in his chest now that he had the assurance that his clot would not be born some soulless creature. Looking down and studying the small clot. Error felt its tiny soul send a pulse to his own larger one. Now that Error thought about it. It made sense now why he was still in so much pain. All the excess magic that he would normally use to heal himself quickly was now going towards the clot’s growth and development. 

“Have you decided what you are going to do?” The singular voice was back again. It seemed that the creators were done harassing his poor skull with their joint voices. 

Error did not look up from his examination of his ecto. A part of him did not want to answer. The thought of carrying the child to term and then giving it away had indeed crossed his mind. But Error had quickly shoved that notion aside. There would always be the risk that someone somewhere might find out that it was his offspring. Depending on what the youngling looked like that plan might not be viable anyway. Error had very specific coloring, there were not a lot of skeletons that shared his markings or pigment palette. If the clot’s appearance took on something similar to the destroyer then it would be a dead giveaway as to its lineage. The moment the other monsters in the multiverse found out, the youngling would more than likely be dusted on the spot. 

If Error decided to do this it would be him taking responsibility for the tiny life. Error would be the one to carry it. He would be the one to raise it. The doubts were still prominently present in his mind. He still was not sure he could do it. Error was not the best person to be a parent he could not deny that. A part of him kept screaming that it would be more merciful to snuff out the small life before it could truly develop into a youngling. After all, unlike other birthers, he could get rid of the clot and then regenerate when the action inevitability dusted Error. 

Error sat staring at nothing and stroking the clot for a very long time. The creators had long since gone silent, leaving him to think in pace. Error’s had an internal battle between his soul and his mind. Coming to a decision he allowed a warm melancholy smile to spread over his face. “I will keep the clot; the truth is that I cannot bring myself to get rid of it. Each time I consider it I feel my very soul shriek in agony. I will raise it to the best of my ability. I will do my best to make sure that it becomes a better person than me.” 

Error's skull throbbed at the eruption of cheers from the creators. But instead of telling them off, he simply smiled and laid back against his trusty bean bag. Closing his eyes Error mumbled, “But first the little one and I need rest.” Error was not exactly confident in his decision, but he could say without hesitance that he was determined.


	4. Revelation

Error paced back and forth a concerned expression on his face. Ever since he found out about the clot several months ago and decided to keep it. The destroyer had gone to great pains and lengths not to leave the antivoid unless he absolutely had to. After all, compared to out there where everyone wanted his head. The clot was much safer in here with him were almost no one could get in. Taking a break from his seemingly endless pacing, Error sat down and allowed his mind to wander. He could not help the thought that It would be so much safer and easier for him if he had a mate. 

If Error was being honest, he had been playing with the idea of telling Ink about the clot. A part of him that he would never admit to having. Craved the sire of his clot, it could not be helped really, it was a compulsion that he had very little control over. Every instinct that Error housed screamed for him to have his mate close so that the clot could feed off its Sire’s magic as well as its birthers. 

Error’s logical mind on the other hand kept telling itself that Ink was not his bonded mate and that having him around would be more of a danger than a help. Rationally he knew this of course, but his instincts refused to listen to his sensible thinking. His body yearned for Ink’s magic, it was a primal need, the more magic the clot got the more likely it was to survive.

Usually, if the sire died while the cot was still housed in the birther, the younglings would inevitably follow. The clot would slowly starve from a magic deficiency for several months until finally dusting within the birther. They required such large amounts of magic to develop and grow. That the birther despite their best efforts could not physically provide alone. For Error this was not as much of a concern as it might have been, had he just been a regular monster. He needed a lot of magic in order to destroy AU’s. Error did not really think about it all that often, but he really was a powerful being. He was able to support the clot on his own magic and still have some of his reserves left for his personal usage. Wanting Ink’s magic had more to do with instinct and the clots desire for its Sire, than an actual physical need. 

A part of Error was sure that if he told Ink about the clot, the squid would never be willing to help with the clot and provide magic. That meant that Error would have to be the sole provider of magic to the baby bones for the next two years of its gestation. Because of this the further along that the clot got in incubation, the less magic the Destroyer would have to spare. Error would guess that his powers would more than likely be cut down to ¼ of what it usually was and that was if he were lucky. Considering that he would not have a mate to provide the extra needed magic that the clot would require. When it came to skeletons the sire of the clot was meant to take care of the carrier during this time. Usually, both parents would provide magic for the clot’s growth. But Error knew that the moment Ink found out about its existence there was the very real possibility that Ink would attack him and by extension the clot. 

The artist was soulless after all, despite popular belief that was held amongst his peers. Error knew through personal interaction that Ink was not above cruelty or violence. They had kept their meetings a secret from the world for a reason. Though Ink and Error hand never really discussed the idea of telling others about their intimate relations. The image flashed in error’s mind of Ink’s sockets going black and hollow. His mouth opening to a black hole as his fangs sharpening and black slime dripped out of his face and onto the floor. Error’s hands quickly shot up to cradle his stomach protectively. Ink could not really kill Error permanently, so he tended to take the squids threats in stride. But now… now there really was something in Error’s life that Ink could hurt and take away from him. This clot was physical proof of their intimacy, the undeniable testimony of what they had been doing together. Error let a bitter smile grace his face, the destroyer creating something… How cosmically hilarious.

Error supposed that he could attempt to find a surrogate magic provider to stand in place of Ink. But those chances were slim for multiple reasons. It was feasible but it came with a lot of risks. Younglings tended to be very picky when it came to the magic they would use to grow. They would often reject any third parties that tried to give them magic. Clot’s only ever settled for magic that did not belong to either their Sire or birther in extreme circumstances. 

On the exceedingly rare occasion the clot agreed to take magic from another person other than their sire, chances were that the youngling would be born premature and feeble. Now that was not necessarily a fear for Error, since it did seem that he was able to support the clot on his own and still have ¼ of his power left to spare for destroying worlds. But ¾ was not a small amount of magic to lose and if he had someone to help with providing magic it would lessen the burden on his reserves quite a bit.  
Error shook his head and continued with his pacing. Even if Error managed to find someone willing to provide him with magic constantly nonstop for the next two years of the clot’s gestation. The pool of those he could possibly ask was VERY SHALLOW. Error was hated by pretty much the whole multiverse after all. Almost everyone in the multiverse wanted his dust baring, nightmare and his gang, and perhaps fresh. 

But none of those choices were ideal, not a single one of them was childcare material. Even if they agreed Error knew that they would all have some sort of ulterior motive. A monster does not just offer to half their magic reserves for two years, for a clot that is not their own, eagerly. Either they would want something, or they would want to use the clot as a weapon of some sort. Plus, in the rare instances that a third would step in to help provide magic for a clot voluntarily. They in a way became like a third parent, to the youngling. The more magic that the other gave, the more that the clot would take on characteristics of the surrogate magic doner. 

Out of his list of possible doners, there was Nightmare, Horror, Killer, or Dust. None of those choices were terrific. Error did take a small moment to admit that it would be hilarious to see the look on Dreams face if the youngling came out looking like his brother. The love child of Nightmare and the Destroyer beware world! But Error shuddered at the thought of allowing any of the previously stated candidates anywhere near his ecto or his clot. 

Then there was of course the possibility that the child would take on some of the physical and magical traits of the third doner. Error cringed at the thought of his clot coming out slimy and goo covered like Nightmare, Insane like and talking to things that were not there like Dust, unstable and sharp-toothed like Horror, or a psychopath with black gunk coming out of its eyes like Killer. Their magic would have more of a negative than positive effect, Error was sure of that. Error honestly had no idea if Fresh could even properly provide the magic that the clot would need anyway. Since he was a parasite, so that booted him off the list. Yeah, looking at his options the destroyer would just happily take his chances on his own thank you very much. 

Error had asked the creators about their thoughts on the matter several times. If they believed, he would need to ask another to help out with providing excess magic. Error had assumed that the creators would jump at the chance to be involved with his decision with the clot. But instead, the creators had been oddly dogy about answering him. They always seemed to just say things like. 

‘Well, it’s up to you, it’s your clot so you get to decide who you want to help raise it.”

Or

“We will support you no matter what. Remember we will be with you every step of the way!” 

But their favorite seemed to be:

“Even if you decided to do this on your own. Unlike other monsters, you will have enough magic for both you and the clot to function. As long as you are careful and limit yourself in your everyday use of your magic. You should still be able to destroy worlds no problem.” 

Error had long since given up attempting to get a straight answer out of the voices. As the clot inside of him gave another pulse in an attempt to call for its sire. Another part of Error’s mind continued to play with the thought of talking to Ink. It would be the most ideal option if the other agreed to help take care of the clot. Of course, Error knew that it would not be out of any form of affection or goodwill for the destroyer. But even if he had no emotions. Surly the Ink stain would be happy with the idea that he personally had helped produce new life. The creators themselves said that Ink should never have been able to make a clot with the absence of a soul. So perhaps he would be excited about the whole development? 

That was the squid's thing, after all, protecting all the life and Au’s. However, Error knew that if he did tell the other about the clot and by some miracle Ink wanted to be in the youngling's life. Error would have to draw some boundaries. No longer was he going to allow the Ink Stain to physically do what he wanted with him. Error also was going to have to make it perfectly clear that the clot changed nothing. Error was not going to stop destroying unless Ink stopped creating. The destroyer paused in his thinking and began to rub his temples. Listen to him, this is insane he could not tell Ink about the youngling. Right…? 

The clot gave another pulse as if to answer his birther’s messy thoughts. Absently mindedly rubbing his ecto and staring off into nothing. Error finally came to a decision, he proceeded to open a window to the multiverses code and began to scan as many Au’s as he possibly could in hopes of locating the squid. He knew that Ink had to be somewhere since he frequently did his rounds. After a bit of time Error’s scan pinged. He had finally managed to locate Ink. Before he could change his own mind about the plan, the destroyer had opened a portal to the Au that Ink was in. After stepping out and not seeing the guardian of creation right away. Error began to search around for the Ink stain, according to the multiverses code Ink was somewhere in this AU.  
Finally, Error spotted the Guardian of Creation. It was quite dark out, so he had to get a little closer to get a good look at the squid. Ink was sitting on an extremely large plush quilt that was carefully placed beside a lake. There was tall grass with echo flowers blooming all around him in droves. Their small glow creating a nice ambiance while large yellow fireflies danced lazily around him. Ink was staring up at the seemingly endless expansion of stars above him.

For a moment Error paused and gazed at Ink’s sitting form. The destroyer felt his eyes soften as he studied the other. With the glow of flowers, the gentle sparkle of the lake water, and the fireflies surrounding him. Error had to admit to himself that Ink looked almost beautiful. 

Gathering his courage Error began to walk closer to the other skeleton. With one arm cradling his stomach Error reached his other hand out, about to call out to the other. But unexpectedly, a portal opened next to Ink. Error quickly lunged behind a nearby tree and watched as Dream stepped out waving at Ink a wide smile on his face. 

Error mentally cursed, confronting Ink about the clot had been a risky idea. One that Error was still on edge about. But he wanted to do what was best for his clot. Having the squid's magic would help immensely with the youngling growing inside of him. It would also help Error not have to be so restrictive with his own magic usage in the future. 

However, this was not a conversation that requires an audience. On top of that Ink and Error kept their time together a secrete. The only way Error was going to get near the other long enough to have a discussion without combat was if they were alone. But with another Star Sans member present chances were that fighting would be the immediate go to for them. He just wanted to have a calm talk with Ink. Fighting while clot bound was not on Error’s list of things to do in life. He was not about to put his youngling in danger over something this stupid and avoidable. The destroyer would just have to wait until dream left is all.  
Error sighed and began to poke an echo flower as several minutes passed by. Dream had taken a seat next to Ink and they were apparently having a very animated chat, from what Error could see. Error sighed and slid to the ground of the AU, making sure to keep the two skeletons in his view. Half an hour passed, and Dream was still there…. 

“Ugh, when was he going to leave!?” Error decided that he needed to hear what they were saying. He was hopeful that he would be able to tell by their topic of conversation If it seemed like they were close to finishing or not. If it looked like they were going to keep going then he would just go back to his antivoid and try again later. 

Opening a very small portal about the size of his hand. Error made sure to open the other side close to where Ink and Dream where but low enough on the ground so that it was hidden by the tall grass and endless echo flowers. 

“Ink, I thought about what you said about wanting to take accountability.” From what Error could see from his position Dream had his hands clasped to his chest. He was looking down at the ground while an enthusiastic smile spread across his face.

“Yes, have you made a decision?” Ink’s voice was soft and warm. Error had never heard Ink use that tone before. It made his soul twist in an uncomfortable way, and the clot within him pulse in an unpleasant manner. 

“I have, and I agree we should take the next step, your plan is perfect.” Dream gazed into Ink’s constantly changing eyes. It had taken Dream a bit of time to decide, but he knew that he would not regret agreeing to this. 

“Are you sure? I am lacking in a few areas.” Ink pulled away from Dream slightly, turning his skull away from the gaze of the other, proceeding to stare across the lake. “I really want you to think this through before deciding.” 

Dream reached out and took Ink’s hand, intertwining the fingers with his own. “Oh, Ink don’t say that, you are wonderful.” It hurt Dream to see the other put himself down like this. 

“I don’t have a soul Dream.” Ink stared at their Interlocked hands as if he did not completely understand why Dream had bothered to do such an act. Ink began to stroke the back of dreams had with his thumb. This seemed to make the other happy, so he kept going. 

“Yes, well technically neither do I.” Dream leaned against Ink’s body putting his head on the others shoulder. He felt content with the world, now if only he could convince Ink to treasure himself just as much as Dream cherished him. 

Ink frowned at that response, “Dream you know it’s not the same thing. You embody the good emotions of every living thing in the multiverse. You are purity and kindness. You can feel emotion just like any other person. I do not have that ability; I have no real emotions. I only have the paints. If I run out, there will be times that it might seem like I am a completely different person until I can get more.” Ink needed Dream to understand the seriousness of his words. 

“Ink I have known you for years now. I have seen you off your paints. This is not a new thing to me. We have fought by each other’s side for many centuries now. I know that this is the path that I want to take. Soul or no Soul I love you Ink. I want to marry you. I agree with your earlier plan, neither of us can soul bond since we do not really have fully functioning monsters’ souls. But a human-style marriage wouldn’t be that bad!” Dream gave Ink the most sincere and loving expression that he could muster. 

Seeing the determination reflected in Dream’s eye lights. A huge smile stretched across Ink's face as pink hearts reflected in both of his sockets. He picked up dream and began to spin him around while holding him. Inks voice was full of passion and admiration. “Thank you Dream! You have made me the happiest skeleton alive! I promise that I will be the best mate ever!” Ink was truly happy, and he wanted the whole multiverse to know it! The guardian of creation allowed for his magic to shine around him brightly as he stopped spinning. 

Ink tenderly grabbed Dream and pulled him into a deep affectionate kiss. In response, Dream hooked both of his legs around Ink’s waist. The guardian of creation slowly lowered them both onto the plush quilt that they had been sitting on previously.  
Pulling back from the kiss Ink sat up kneeling between Dream’s legs. The guardian of creation began to sensually nibble and lick at Dreams neck all the while whispering soothing sweet nothings to him and promises of their future as mates. Dream lay back a large yellow blush spread over his face as he looked up into the other’s heart filled sockets. Ink took a moment to paused and admire the beautiful sight of the other skeleton laying before him. Once he had done his best to brand the image forever into his memory, he had promptly begun to tenderly pull at dreams clothes. Ink acted as if he were unwrapping the most fragile of treasures. Dream was just as eager, reaching up he began to pull Ink’s scarf and sash off the other's body deliberately. 

Error watched the scene before him with bated breath and wide sockets. Error knew that he should not feel anything. Ink and he were not mates, they were not bonded, and they were not in love. Error had no claim to Ink just as Ink had no claim to him. But then why did his soul feel so heavy? 

Error at this point had seen and heard enough. Swallowing thickly, he quickly closed the tiny window that allowed him to hear their voices and turned away. Error knew that Ink did not love him. It had never been a secret between them that the guardian of creation was using Error for physical release more than anything else. Error knew that in the end Ink would just leave the moment it was over never bothering to look back. 

But still despite himself, seeing Ink embracing Dream with a tenderness that Error had no idea the artist was even capable of showing. It made something deep inside of Error throb painfully as bitter bile pooled in his mouth at the scene he had just witnessed. Error’s hands reached down to cover the area of his stomach where the clot was located. The moment Ink had flared his magic, the clot in response to having his Sire’s magic so close began to radiate soul pulses and warmth. 

Error was sure that the only reason why the other two had not felt the clot calling for its Sire was because they were so wrapped up in each other. Rubbing the clot in a reassuring manner Error silently opened a portal and quickly leaped through it.  
Immediately upon arriving back in his antivoid Error dove for his faithful bean bag chair. Once the destroyer was settled comfortably back in the safe embrace of his bean bag chair. He sympathetically rubbed at his ecto, “I’m sorry little one. But it looks like it is going to be just you and me after all.” 

Error sagged back into his chair, taking a moment to close his sockets breathe, think, and get his emotions under control. After a few minutes, his Sockets snaped open, the destroyer had come to a decision. Error sat up straighter, determination was reflected in his grim expression. Taking a deep breath, he opened a window to his antivoid code. 

Error had put this off long enough, he should have done this a long time ago. Opening the code and scanning it, he found the specific piece of data that he had been looking for. Error’s fingers only hesitated and trembled for a fraction of a second before placing a new lock on his antivoid. With that one motion, he made his home basically impenetrable. No one was getting in without an invitation or a key. 

Error leaned back and let out a large sigh that he had been holding. The destroyer hated to admit it to himself. But the truth was that he had never put a lock on his antivoid in the beginning because a sick, desperate, and lonely part of him had wanted Ink to visit. It was a mixture of desperation to have the physical touch of another, even if that touch was excruciating and a need to punish himself for all the sins, he committed each time he destroyed a world. 

Then once Error had found out about the clot, he had played with the idea of putting a lock on his antivoid. But in the end, kept the lock off in hopes that Ink would one day come and meet the clot of his own free will… It had been a foolish hope, Error knew that. He should have put the new lock on his home the moment that he found out about the clot. No, before that even. But a tiny part of him had been weak… A small part of him had wished… But that part was gone, dusted and thrown to the wind. Error was alone and that is how it had always been and how it should always be. 

Feeling the tiny clot give a strong pulse. The destroyer looked down and gave a warm smile. “Well, I guess I am not completely alone.”


End file.
